The penthouse living room had been transformed, but not into a wedding venue. It looked more like a boardroom with flowers.
A single vase of white lilies sat on the coffee table. A judge, looking bored and checking his watch, stood by the window with the Dubai skyline as a backdrop. Logan, Hart's executive assistant, stood by the door as the sole witness, holding a velvet ring box with terrified reverence.
Eunice stood in the hallway, smoothing the skirt of the dress Hart had selected.
It wasn't a ballgown this time. It was a simple, knee-length sheath of cream silk. It was elegant, expensive, and completely devoid of personality. It was a uniform for the role she was about to play: The Perfect, Silent Wife.
"Are you ready?"
Hart appeared behind her. He wore a black suit, sharp and tailored, with a single white rose in his lapel. He didn't look like a nervous groom. He looked like a king surveying his conquest.
"Do I have a choice?" Eunice asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror instead of him.
"No," Hart said softly.
He reached out and took her hand. His grip was warm, firm, and calloused. He pulled her gently toward the living room.
"Let's get this over with. The Judge has a tee time at three."
They walked into the room together. There was no music. No aisle to walk down. Just the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the distant noise of the city below.
The Judge cleared his throat. "We are gathered here today to join Hart Matthew and Eunice Vance in holy matrimony."
He skipped the sentimental speech about love and commitment. Hart had likely paid him extra to be brief.
"Hart Matthew," the Judge droned, "do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To protect and provide for her, as long as you both shall live?"
Hart turned to look at Eunice. For the first time all morning, his mask cracked slightly. His dark eyes swept over her face, lingering on her lips, then dropping to her stomach where his children grew.
"To protect and provide," Hart repeated, his voice deep and resonant. It wasn't the standard vow, but it was the only one that mattered to him. "I do."
The Judge turned to Eunice. "And do you, Eunice Vance, take this man to be your husband?"
Eunice hesitated. The silence stretched. One second. Two seconds.
She saw Hart's jaw tighten. She saw his hand twitch at his side. He was terrified she would say no, even with the contract signed.
She thought of the twins. She thought of the "golden cage." She thought of Vanessa screaming on the floor.
"I do," she whispered, the words tasting like ash.
"The rings, please," the Judge said.
Logan stepped forward, opening the velvet box. Inside sat a diamond so large it looked heavy. It was a flawless, emerald-cut stone set in platinum. Cold, hard, and unbreakable.
Hart took the ring. He took Eunice's trembling left hand.
"With this ring," Hart murmured, sliding the cold metal over her finger, "I claim you."
He didn't say "I wed you." He said I claim you.
The ring fit perfectly. Of course it did. He had probably measured her finger while she slept.
"By the power vested in me," the Judge announced, closing his book, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Eunice flinched. She hadn't thought about this part. She turned her cheek, expecting a polite peck on the side of the head.
But Hart Matthew didn't do "polite."
He reached out, one hand cupping the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair to hold her still. The other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body flush against his hard chest.
"Look at me, Mrs. Matthew," he ordered softly.
Eunice looked up, startled by the new title.
Hart lowered his head and captured her lips.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was hungry. It was searing. It was a kiss that poured all his frustration, his fear, and his confusing, suffocating obsession into her.
Eunice stiffened for a heartbeat, intending to push him away. But the moment his lips moved against hers, her body betrayed her. Her hands, which had been balled into fists against his chest, slowly unclenched and gripped his lapels. A soft sigh escaped her throat.
Hart groaned low in his chest, deepening the kiss, tilting her head back to devour her. For ten seconds, the contract didn't exist. The Judge didn't exist. There was only the heat of his skin and the desperate way he held her, as if she were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless. Eunice's lips were swollen, her eyes wide and dazed.
Hart rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, breathing in her scent.
"Mine," he whispered, a sound so broken and possessive it made her heart ache.
"Congratulations," the Judge said dryly, breaking the spell. "If you'll just sign the license..."
Hart straightened up immediately. The vulnerability vanished. He was the CEO again.
"Logan, show the Judge out," Hart commanded.
He looked down at Eunice, who was touching her bruised lips.
"Go rest," Hart said, adjusting his cuffs. "We have a dinner reservation at 8:00. My grandmother demanded to see the ring."
He turned and walked toward his office, leaving his new wife standing alone in the middle of the living room, wearing a ring that cost more than a house, and feeling more lonely than she ever had in her life.